But those battleships - those battleships couldn't wait for the water to pour in.
The moment the energy beam touched the first battleship, the ship seemed to be grabbed by an invisible giant hand and then violently crushed.
It's not burning or exploding, it's complete disintegration from the inside out, in all directions.
The wooden planks of the ship's hull turned into particles in the light beam, and the mast and sails disappeared the moment they came into contact. The sailors on the ship didn't even have time to scream.
The entire ship disappeared from the sea in less than a heartbeat, leaving only a smoking, ever-expanding whirlpool, proof that something had once been there.
The second ship, the third ship, the fourth ship - the beam of light continued to sweep across, and the battleships exploded one after another in the golden light.
Not an explosion, but an annihilation more complete than an explosion.
Those battleships were like lit firecrackers, but instead of being blown to pieces, they disappeared directly.
Where the light beam swept, the outline of the battleship flickered in the light, and then there was nothing.
There was no wreckage, no debris, no floating planks, no struggling figures. Only the empty sea surface and the vaporizing water.
The flagship of Tormund was the last ship to be hit.
It is located on the right wing of the fleet, the farthest away. When the light beam sweeps it, the energy has already been attenuated - but "attenuation" is only a relative term.
The flagship lasted less than two breaths in the beam of light. The hull began to disintegrate from the bow, then the hull, and finally the stern.
Before completely disappearing, Tormund jumped into the sea from the stern of the ship.
His body made a splash on the sea, and was quickly engulfed by the huge waves set off by the light beam.
He didn't know if he was still alive. He only knew that his fleet - the fleet that he had spent decades building and poured countless efforts and wealth into - was gone.
Hundreds of warships and tens of thousands of sailors and soldiers were all reduced to nothing at this moment.
The head on the left closed its mouth, and the golden light dissipated from the corner of its mouth. Its mission was completed - the threat on the sea no longer existed.
The head on the right is the last one to release the attack.
Its target is not the city wall on the ground, nor the fleet on the sea, but the swooping dark red figure in the sky - Bloodworm of Daemon.
The dark red dragon was swooping down from the sky at an extremely fast speed, its wings folded, and its body was like an arrow off the string, heading straight towards the direction of Redd.
Daemon was riding on the dragon's back, holding the reins tightly with one hand and holding a Dragonglass spear in the other hand. The tip of the spear shone coldly in the morning light.
His goal is clear - to kill Redd before Redd rides King Ghidorah again.
This is their last chance and only chance.
Once Redd and King Ghidorah reunite, all efforts will be in vain and all sacrifices will become meaningless.
Daemon's face was deformed by the wind during the high-speed dive, but his eyes - those dark gray eyes burning with madness and determination - were staring at the naked figure standing on the high platform, red by the firelight.
Redd just stood there, naked and unarmed, no dragon, no weapons, no protection.
He stood there like a living target, like a target within reach.
Daemon's mouth widened, revealing a ferocious smile.
"Go to hell!" His voice was torn by the wind, and only he could hear it.
But King Ghidorah heard it.
Instead of hearing his voice, I heard his heartbeat - the dark red dragon's heartbeat accelerated sharply during the dive. The frequency and amplitude of that acceleration were like a war drum being beaten crazily to King Ghidorah's perception, clearly exposing Bloodworm's position, speed and direction.
The head on the right turned in the direction of Bloodworm's dive.
A golden energy beam spurted out from its mouth, but it was not a straight line, but a whip-like lightning that slanted upward with an arc.
The goal of that light beam was not to kill Bloodworm - King Ghidorah knew that if that light beam hit Bloodworm head-on, the dark red dragon would completely disappear from the world like those battleships.
But King Ghidorah did not choose to kill it. Not out of mercy, but because Redd needed to live.
Daemon knows a lot of things - about Citadel, about the man in black robe, and about how many black hands he doesn't know about behind this ambush.
A living Daemon is much more valuable than a dead Daemon.
So the target of King Ghidorah is not Bloodworm, but the flight path of Bloodworm.
The light beam swept diagonally from the front of Bloodworm, not hitting it directly, but brushing against its left wing.
The air flow and energy fluctuations caused by the golden energy formed a twisted barrier in the air that was visible to the naked eye.
Bloodworm suddenly felt that the air on the left side became hot, viscous and impenetrable during the dive.
Its instinctive reaction was to turn to the right to avoid the energy barrier, but Daemon yanked the reins on its back, trying to make it continue forward - to the left, through the barrier, and towards Redd.
Daemon underestimated the power of King Ghidorah.
The moment Bloodworm's left wing touched the energy barrier, it was torn open by the force.
Not being burned through, not being shattered, but being torn apart from the molecular level by something between energy and matter.
A long crack with burnt edges appeared on the wing membrane, and dark red blood gushes out from the crack, scattering a mist of blood in the air.
Bloodworm let out a painful scream, and his body suddenly tilted to the right, and the dive trajectory was disrupted.
It passed less than a hundred feet above Redd's head. The dragon's claws could almost touch the edge of the high platform, but the distance of less than a hundred feet became a chasm that Daemon could never cross.
After Bloodworm passed over Redd's head, it flapped its wings desperately, trying to regain altitude.
But the crack in the left wing made it extremely difficult to fly. Each flap would tear more of the wing membrane, and each flap would cause severe pain.
Its flight trajectory became crooked, its altitude continued to drop, and finally it stumbled onto a pier on the east side of the port that had not been completely engulfed in flames.
Daemon jumped down from the dragon's back, his face was ashen, and the Dragonglass spear in his hand was broken into two pieces when it landed on the ground.
He looked up at the golden figure in the sky, at the dissipating energy beam, and at the naked and unharmed Redd who was still standing on the high platform.
His lips trembled as he wanted to say something, but in the end he said nothing.
Because he knew that everything was over.